March 18, 2003
With the release of the Mexican lesbian vampire movie Alucarda just about
imminent, this week seems like a perfect time to cover last year's reissue
of a Spanish film with Sapphic blood drinkers (and a lycanthrope!),
Werewolf Shadow. Though not without its flaws, this Eurohorror period
piece is perfect filler for anyone trying to kill time before Moctezuma's
bloody epic finally hits the shelves.
One of this film's great charms is undoubtedly that it stars Paul Naschy,
an actor who is sometimes referred to as the "Spanish Lon Chaney". That
may be overstating the case a bit, but Naschy has certainly put together a
great career in the horror genre and he continues to work actively
today. In fact, at the present time Naschy is in Los Angeles to work with
Fred Olen Ray in a reprisal of the role of Waldemar Daninsky, the lead that
he has played in many films, including Werewolf Shadow. Naschy first got
his start as an extra in the 1961 Nicholas Ray Christ biopic King of Kings,
and then would eventually go on to star in all kinds of horror films over
the next few decades, which manage to mine just about every genre character
from mummy to Jack the Ripper to zombie to Frankenstein.
In the project currently under discussion, Naschy's character is a brooding
werewolf who is first seen having two silver bullets dug out of his corpse
by a foolishly rationalist doctor who knows that legends are nothing but
piffle when exposed to the cold hard light of reason. Soon, of course, he
is as dead as the proverbial doornail and the manbeast is set free to
rampage throughout the Spanish countryside looking for human tapas to quell
his hunger. After this opening sequence - and some suitably swingin'
'70s mood music - two young women (Genevieve and Elvira) are introduced
to the audience and we are brought along on their quest to look for the
legendary tomb of the Countess Wandessa. In a truly shocking turn of
events, they have a bit of car trouble (no!) and end up staying in
Waldemar's rustic castle in the hills, seemingly beset by nightly
atmospheric thunderstorms.
As events unfold, their lupine benefactor helps them to locate the grave of
the sorceress and they engage in the nearly always brilliant genre
machination of defiling the grave and accidentally dripping a young woman's
blood onto the desiccated corpse. Lo and behold, this matches up point by
point with the local folklore by which the evil Countess is to be brought
back to life to commence the onset of La Noche de Walpurgis, wherein the
Lord of Darkness will return to walk the earth and visit upon humanity
crimes of evil beyond the wildest dreams of the globe's inhabitants. From
here, the plot continues to twist, leading to all sorts of complications
from romantic bylines to insane estate handyman to mad sister meltdown and
right on through the inevitable girl-girl hemoglobin swapping.
As the above should indicate pretty clearly, if you're looking for tightly
plotted action then it may very well be that this movie isn't for you. But
director Leon Klimovsky manages to create enough atmosphere that at times
the abandoned monastery setting becomes suitably creepy and
disturbing. And while there aren't too many truly chilling moments over
the course of the film, there's at least enough of an eerie air to make the
movie interesting to watch throughout its 95-minute length. The
first half hour or so is especially fun, and though it's hard to take much
of the film seriously, there are still plenty of great moments during its
running that keep it entertaining. The cheesy dubbing is good for a laugh,
the makeup effects are suitably crude and the convoluted story is twisted
enough that it's eminently satisfying - as long as you yield to its internal
illogic.
For all its entertainment value, however, the film does drag a bit at times
and may have ultimately been a better movie if some extraneous bits had
been shaved. This is not completely uncommon with Eurohorror from this
period, though, and I have to say I found the film's pace to be much more
engaging than many an Italian piece from the same era. Here at least the
story advances through the slower parts, and with the near endless
introduction of absurd sub-plots there's enough drive to maintain one's
attention. Coupled with the garish '70s fashions, some surprisingly
decent acting, the impressive visual setting and the spectacular use of
music and sound, the continuous shifts in the tale serve only to engage the
viewer and help create a very watchable film.
Turning to the DVD itself, as is usually the case with Anchor Bay editions,
the movie both looks and sounds great. The colors are crisp, the
widescreen format reveals far more than in the previous fullscreen
versions, the dubbed mono mix is audibly fine and the transfer is
top-notch. A number of scenes that were cut from the original American
version have been restored and are presented here in Spanish with English
subtitles. As far as extras go, the DVD also includes a nice
15-minute interview with Paul Naschy himself, an extensive stills
section containing posters and lobby cards from many of Naschy's films, the
movie's original TV spot and a lengthy three minute theatrical
trailer. Additionally, a brief Naschy bio is included, leading to an
attractive overall package for the very reasonable MSRP of only $19.99.
Though certainly not to be considered a cinematic enterprise of the highest
order, Werewolf Shadow is an entertaining trip into a rural Spanish
countryside where an ancient lesbian vampire and a melancholy werewolf meet
up with a pair of mod young women with suitably amusing results. Luckily,
the film's value doesn't rest entirely on its campiness (while that is
certainly an attraction), as its period flavor and occasional air of fright
help in the ultimately succesful disposition of the tale of terror. In
tandem with Anchor Bay's excellent restoration and inexpensive purchase
price, this DVD reissue of Werewolf Shadow is simply a must buy for anyone
with a passing interest in either Eurohorror or the career of its star, the
seemingly immortal Paul Naschy.
As this article was written, it came to our attention that when Paul
Naschy and his wife Elvira (after whom many characters in Naschy films are
named) came to Los Angeles just last week, she was unfortunately
hospitalized with stomach pains. Though it appears now that the problem
was thankfully minor, best wishes from BOP go out to Naschy and his wife
and we hope that the rest of their stay in the U.S. is a healthy one.
View other columns by Chris Hyde